The Other Winternight
by The One Who Writes
Summary: This is a story about what I think would have happened if Moiraine and Lan had not shown up in Emond's Field at Winternight. Please R&R!
1. Apple Pie and Trollocs

Silent feet walked over the dirt path, careful to make no sound so as not to arouse notice from the infrequent passer biers. They approached the window sill, ever closer. 3 steps more, 2, 1, "NOW" thought Mat Cauthon as he jumped from the shadows, deftly grabbing the fresh baked pie from the windowsill, a broad smile blooming upon his face.

However, his moment of triumph was short lived. For at the moment his greedy fingers wrapped around the heated covering of the pie; as if by divine intervention, an enraged Nynaeve al' Meara stepped into view.

"Blood and bloody ashes" thought Mat as he turned away from the flaming eyes of the Wisdom and started sprinting as hard as his legs would allow towards the woods.

"Matrim Cauthon, if you do not get back here I will strap you so hard that you wont be able to sit until you have gray in your hair!" screeched the enraged woman as she jumped into hot pursuit of the thief.

Shortly after he began running, Mat knew that he was in trouble. True, he was fast, but he had never claimed that he could outrun a madwoman. Also he had just eaten an enormous lunch, and thought that if he kept this pace up, he would surely be seeing it again, and the overwhelming smell of his recently stolen pie was certainly doing nothing good for his roiling stomach. As he did his best to control his rising stomach, Mat sprinted around the corner of the next building he passed, not bothering to read the sign hung on the door, gently swaying in the breeze.

"Just another few seconds, and I'll be out of the village, and then, to enjoy my lovely prize" thought Mat. He felt another uncomfortable shift in his stomach, "well, maybe a nap instead." The boy, or man depending on who you asked, was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he no longer noticed where he was going. And so, it was a great surprise to him when he tripped on piece of wood, and an even greater one when his hard won pie flew from his wildly flying hands right into the face of a bewildered Tam al' Thor. An exhausted Mat looked up from where he was sprawled on the ground, and saw Nynaeve flying towards him. When she finally pulled level with his pathetic looking body, he looked up, and threw up his lunch all over her dress.

"Four more barrels" groaned an exhausted Rand al' Thor. "It feels like I've been doing this all day". Unloading barrels, carrying them down winding stairs, and finally putting the heavy burdens down, Only to realize that he had to do it all again.

With a weary sigh, he stepped out of the Inn and slowly plodded his way to the hated wagon. Looking up to get a glance of the village, Rand saw something that he was undoubtedly not expecting. An infuriated Wisdom and a frightened Mat, who was somehow, despite his obvious fright was amused by the scene before h

His father, Tam, was covered in a red squishy substance. It was the color of the inside of an apple pie. With a laugh Rand walked up to his father as he wiped some of the apple pie off of his face.

"Well hello Matrim, it is nice to see you too".

It was too much for Rand, he couldn't contain the laughter. In seconds he was rolling around on the ground, hands clenched to his sides and laughter erupting from his mouth. After what seemed like hours, he got up and tuned into the conversation that his laughter had previously blocked out. What he heard almost made him want to start laughing again. There stood a short little woman, hardly as high as his chest, yelling at a man nearly a foot taller that her while the taller man stood there trying to defend himself from her ever sharpening tongue.

"MATRIM CAUTHON! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! NOT ONLY DID YOU STEAL MISTRESS AL' VERE'S PIE, BUT YOU SAW FIT TO GO THROWING IT INTO MASTER AL' THORS FACE! YOU ARE GOING TO GET THE STRAPING OF YOUR LIFE! AND TO THINK, YOU, A GROWN MAN, WHY I NEVER!"

The Wisdoms rant continued on like that for some time. However most of it was lost on Rand when he noticed the horrible looking substance on Nynaeve's dress. It was a good thing that he had the prospect of carrying barrels down to the cellar of the Inn to somber his mood, or Rand may have gone into a third round of hysterical laughter right then and there.

It had been three days since Mat had gotten strapped for what was now called, "The pie incident". And news of his endeavors and punishment had reached every ear in the village. Yet that was not what was causing the huge commotion across the village. News so great that it made even Mat Cauthon's "pie incident" seem insignificant. Tonight was Winternight, one of the greatest days of the year! Villagers ran around, trying, and failing, to get everything together in time for the great event. Laughter could be heard echoing across the village green deep into the woods, almost unabated, weather it be the giggling of children, or the deep throated laughter of half drunken men. All seemed well in the village. Everyone exited for what the night would bring everyone except for one person.

Nynaeve al' Meara had been listening to the wind. Long and hard had she strained to hear the tiniest whisper of what the morrow would bring. This in itself was not unusual, as she always did this to see if the festivities must be postponed due to bad weather. But the difference between this time, and all of those other times, was that no matter how hard she stained her ears she could not hear the wind. Not a single word. And this scared her.

Another person was not fully feeling the joy that should have come from the approaching festivities. Tam al' Thor wandered the streets in a daze, not hearing the shouts and peals of laughter that seemed to be following him like birds intent on their prey. Tam himself did not understand his nervousness. The boys, he rationalized, were probably just seeing things, hallucinations brought upon by the prospect of the approaching night. But despite all he could do, Tam could not quell the feeling that something was horribly wrong. Finally making up his mind Tam began to search down his son. They were headed home for the night.

Rand was extremely angry with his father. What right did he have to drag him home on the eve of the greatest day of the year? It was so unfair, so wrong. But Rand did not voice these thoughts aloud. He feared that if his father heard them he would not let him go to the festivities tomorrow. So Rand continued with his work on the farm, feeding the sheep, who for some reason were quite fidgety, pulling up weeds, feeding Bella and doing everything else that needed to be done. It was probably the animal's behavior affecting him, but for the whole time he worked, he never let his longbow out of his sight.

Three hours later Rand sat next to the fire, his bow and quiver leaning against the wall behind him, starring with obvious awe at the magnificent sword his father had just brought downstairs.

"How had a Sheepherder ever gotten a weapon like that" Rand thought.

"I paid for it, and far too much I think" replied Tam to Rand's unintentionally asked question.

The two lapsed into companionable silence for a while, each reading a thin wood bound book. An hour had pasted before a thundering knock on the door broke the silence.

"Now who could that be" Rand thought aloud, as his father picked up his sword and started walking to the door.

"Probably Joel Coplin asking for sugar again" Tam replied with a forced laugh as he slowly approached the door.

Another thunderous boom emitted from the still unopened door.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming" shouted a now aggravated Tam.

But it appeared the door did not want to wait a second longer, for as soon as the shout left Tams mouth the door flew open, the wood breaking off the metal hinges. There before the two al' Thor men stood a beast. This creature was unlike anything either of them had ever seen before. It had no feet, but rather hooves similar to those of a goat; instead of a helmet it wore horns of an unidentifiable origin. And yet despite all of the horrendous details of the creature, the most horrifying thing about it was that the two men could give it a name.

With a horrifying battle cry, Tam leaped at the monster, sword already unsheathed and flying around in formidable looking patterns. With a snarl of disgust, the Trolloc raised its sword.


	2. The Attack

Rand stared at the massive Trolloc as his father drew his blade. He could not comprehend what he was seeing. Trollocs' were the things of legends; of stories. These were the things that mothers used to scare their children into going to bed. They could not be real, he must be dreaming.

_"Oh light please let me be dreaming!"_

But the clash that the two swords made was not the thing of dreams. And neither was the crashing sound the creature made as its now no longer attached head hit the wooden floor with a sickening thud. Finally coming out of his thoughts, Rand looked up to see that his father was shouting at him.

"Run Rand! Run!"

As much as he hated to leave his father, Rand was too terrified to do much but what his father ordered him to. As quickly as he could, he picked up his bow and ran to the back of the house. Once he reached the back door, Rand opened the door and ran for the woods, stopping only once to see if his father was following. When he finally reached the trees nearest to the farm house, he hid behind one of the larger ones and looked back, trying to see his father through the dust that was being kicked up by the Trolloc hooves.

A minute passed, and Rand sat and watched. Another minute with no sign of his father. After a third minute had gone by Rand was ready to go back into the farm house. However, just as he was about to charge off into the Trolloc infested building; Rand saw something that ended the suicidal thought. With a shattering sound that accompanies the breaking of glass, Tam al' Thor jumped out of one of the houses low lying windows.

"Tam! Tam! Over here! I am over here!" Rand shouted.

As soon as Tam heard his sons shout he rushed over to him, relief shining in his eyes. One his father reached him; Rand pulled him into a bone crushing hug, causing him to cry out in pain. Quickly letting go Rand gaped as his father fell to his knees, blood pouring out of his wound which was originally concealed by his now torn shirt.

"Father!" shouted a panic stricken Rand as he lifted up his fathers shirt to examine the wound.

What he saw was a narrow gash; cutting straight from Tam's left hip up to his right shoulder blade. Though the wound was shallow, it was still long and deadly looking. Yet even the length of the wound did not explain the amount of blood pouring from it. Deftly cutting off a sliver of his shirt, Rand gingerly proceeded to tie up his father's wound. After 5 minutes full of moans of pain, Rand stepped back to inspect his handy work. The wound was completely covered along its entire length, and even though it had not been a perfect bandage job, most of the blood flow had stopped and only the occasional drop fell from the sinister wound. However, even though the blood had stopped Tam did not look any better. And now that his father was close up; and Rand was not wrapping any bandages; his father could be examined more closely.

Tam's face was drawn, and as pale as the moon that Rand was seeing by. His shirt was in ribbons, hardly clinging on to his blood covered body. His boots had come off at some point during the fighting, and glass had gotten lodged into his skin and hair when he jumped though the window in his frantic escape.

"Father, we have to get you to the Wisdom"

No response.

"Father, are you O.K?"

Tam's lips moved briefly but no sound came from them.

"Father! Please answer me!" Rand said as loud as he dared, for he could still hear the Trollocs ransacking the house.

The only response that he got was a brief fluttering of Tam's lips and a sound that might have easily been mistaken for a breath of wind. Now seriously worried; Rand did the only thing that he could do. He unbuckled Tam's sword belt and buckled it around his own waist, tightening the leather strap to make sure the belt would not slide down and interfere with his walking. Made sure his bow and quiver were securely hung over his shoulder, picked up his horribly groaning father, and began to walk. As he walked, every step provoking a groan from his father, Rand felt more and more nervous. Nervous that the Trollocs could hear his father's moans. Nervous that they would get attacked before they got to the village. And more nervous about what exactly it was that he would find when he arrived there.

OK! Sorry for not updating in a while. But my laptop keyboard is acting weird. Like whenever I type in "I" it comes out as "iu" or "ui". It does this for other keys, meaning I got to go back and backspace the extra letters. It took me 5 minutes to type this A/N. anyways this means that updates will be less often until this gets fixed my parents are going to buy a new comp . . . eventually until then IU will update as fast as UI can with this . . . whatever it is. TTFN


	3. Emond's Field

**A/N Please note that I have done some editing (deleting the entire first chapter of the story). After some thought I decided I did not like that chapter or the events that took place in it. If you have not reat the 1st chapter, then no problem, and if you have, just forget you ever did.**

With a sigh, Rand dropped to the ground, his legs giving into the exhaustion that had been attempting to consume him for the past three hours. Laying there on the ground was all he could do, his all too human body could only take so much after all, and three hours of walking through dense forest was not easy work even under the best of circumstances.

And these conditions had been far from the best

As he looked up at the pale pre-dawn light, Rand reflected on the past three hours.

_After leaving the house, Rand had half carried and half dragged his father with him on their grueling march. After an hour of struggling through dark and formidable looking forest, Rand had seen his first sign of trouble._

"Well, heard it more than anything" Rand thought in his state of semi consciousness, as the events of that episode, and the fear and despair that accompanied them, replayed in his mind.

_He had been straining already, feeling Tam's weight dragging him down and feeling the cold scabbard of his father's blade banging against his legs. Just as he was about to throw away the sword for tripping him yet again, he heard something._

_It was a light sound, at first, sounding like the pleasant clang of wind chimes. Yet as he stood and listened, the sound grew louder, alarmingly so. Until it was no longer wind blowing through chimes he heard, but steal banging on hard steal. With a start that jolted him out of awareness, he realized that the sound that he was hearing could be nothing but Trollocs, for there was no other being in the Two Rivers that wore armor. As if to cement Rand's fears, animalistic cries all of a sudden erupted from the direction of the clanging armor._

_Adrenaline had flooded his veins, and using his new found energy, Rand lifted his father in a fire mans carry and began running deeper into the forest. Just as he heard the clanging of metal pull level with him, Rand dived into the nearest bush he could find._

_Pain had filled him; a thousand needles had been pushed into his skin, bringing blood to run in narrow streams down his arms and legs. Immediately, Rand had dived out of the bush cursing under his breath as he tried to stem the flow of blood, only to freeze as though time had been stopped. Forming the void around his mind, Rand had strained his ears, listening for the clang of metal. For a heart stopping second, he heard a blade drawn and the shifting of a bush, yet just as he thought the Trollocs had found him another screech had sounded as the blade was sheathed, and the bush snapped back up straight. Still holding his breath, Rand listened to the metal as it swiftly went down the road, away from him._

_Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Rand turned around to look at his former hiding place. With a growl he drew his father's blade and the bush was cut in half. Damn thorn bush._

_With a start, Rand remembered his father, and with a flood of fear, thought that he might have lost him. Yet after a few moments of frantic searching, he saw him, lying there, blood pouring out of his chest wound. Rand gently rested his hands and his head on his father and cried, dry silent sobs wracking his body. Anger and despair filled him, along with a comforting heat that went unnoticed as it was flooded over with all of his other emotions. After he felt that he could cry no longer, he hoisted his father over his shoulders, feeling much more tired than he had been seconds before. Not even noticing that Tam was bleeding slightly less that he had been earlier._

With a grunt, Rand dragged himself back to the present, digging himself deeper into the Void to hold off memories of the past night. Not that he remembered much, the whole night blended into one mesh of painful traveling and close encounters with parties of Trollocs.

"No!" he screamed inside of his head, as images of his farmhouse started to leak through the Void, "Must stay focused!". With that, Rand pulled up his father, slinging him over his shoulders yet again, and continuing his trek to Emond's Field.

"Not much farther, and then we'll get you fixed, Nynaeve will fix you right up, and then we'll get huge meals and will get to lie down on warm comfy beds, and will be hero's. Everything will be better once we reach the village" Rand whispered, yet whether to himself or his prone father he did not know.

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The first thing he heard was the screams. At this point he didn't even know where he was, not really anyways. All he knew was that he had exited the forest and entered a clearing of some sort. But when he heard the scream, his head snapped up straight, frantically looking in all directions, he knew that scream, but. . .

"Egwene!" he shouted, and took off at a run, only to be pulled back by the dead weight of his father. Carefully hiding the prone body of his father in a heavily leaved bush, Rand looked back at the Trolloc as it chased the girl across the open field.

Egwene was running as though she was being chased by the Dark One himself, yet it was obvious that the creature would catch her soon. The two were too far for Rand to reach them, and even if he did manage to catch up with them, what could he do? He couldn't take a Trolloc head on, especially not in his current state of exhaustion. Throwing his head back in frustration, Rand . . . felt his head crash into his wooden bow which he had flung across his back earlier on.

"Of course!" Rand thought as he swiftly grabbed his bow in his hand.

Taking an arrow from the quiver that he had tied around his waist, Rand took aim at the stampeding Trolloc, desperately praying that he would not miss. He knew that he could always get another chance if he missed; but Egwene wouldn't.

Drawing the string back to his ear, Rand wrapped himself in the Void. He could no longer feel the beads of sweat that had covered his face, his bruised and battered limbs went numb, and although he could see the blood streaking down his arms, he couldn't feel a drop of the red liquid.

Without another thought, he let the arrow go, his eyes trailing it's flight through the sky. It wasn't going to make it, it wasn't going to go far enough, it was too far to the left. . . With a thud Rand could not hear, the arrow pierced the Trollocs neck, bringing the monster to it's death before it even had time to scream.

Letting out a sigh of relief that was more of a dry sob than anything else, Rand rushed across the field, stopping right in front of a frozen Egwene.

Rand stared at the girl, dirt and blood streaked her face and a haunted look had settled in her eyes. Her once beautiful dress that she had worn in preparation for the coming festival had gashes and streaks of dirt and soot covering it. Her hair, which had been worn in a thick braid, was tangled and flying in all directions, only adding to the aura of confusion and fear that she seemed to emit.

"Egwene" Rand whispered into her ear.

That was all it took to release the dam. Letting out a heart wrenching sob, the girl crashed into Rand, giving him a hug that made him stumble backwards from the force of it. Burying her head into his chest, Egwene began to weep, tears soaking his shirt as they poured from the tormented girls eyes, like so many drops of rain. Wrapping his arms around her, Rand did all he could to comfort her, though how he could do that when he was not all there, he did not know.

"Why can't I feel her?" Rand thought wearily. Only after a few seconds of contemplation could Rand realize that he was still holding onto the Void. Letting the Void go, Rand leaned into the girl, and gave her all of the support that his exhausted spirit could muster.

After her sobs died down, Rand gently pushed away from the girl.

"Egwene, what happened?" Rand asked, as he looked back down at the Trolloc corpse.

Looking up at his face, Egwene answered, "They came when we were sleeping, we were so confused. Once we realized what happened we all started to run, but . . . Rand, I think that there are still people in there. I know that some people were staying behind to fight, I passed a few people trying to make their way to the Inn, Mat and Perrin were there too, where in the light did Perrin get an _axe_? oh, well the inn, that's probably where they are going. But Rand, the Trollocs. . . the village." Egwene stopped, for the first time in her life, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Turning around, Rand saw exactly what it was that left Egwene speechless. Instead of leaving him speechless as well, the sight filled Rand with a burning fury, driving all weariness from his body and wiping all thoughts from his mind. With a mental scream, Rand picked up his bow, checked to see if his sword was still in it's place on its belt, and ran to the burning pile of wood that was Emond's Field.

**A/N Is The Void capitalized?**

**Read and Review!!**


	4. A New Begining

_Previously . . ._

_Turning around, Rand saw exactly what it was that left Egwene speechless. Instead of leaving him speechless as well, the sight filled Rand with a burning fury, driving all weariness from his body and wiping all thoughts from his mind. With a mental scream, Rand picked up his bow, checked to see if his sword was still in it's place on its belt, and ran to the burning pile of wood that was Emond's Field._

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Rand slowly crawled his way through the still burning village, keeping his ears open and his eyes peeled for any sign of movement, human and Shadowspawn. His long-bow was held in his hand so hard that he could almost feel the wood cracking. His other hand was holding an arrow against the bowstring, ready to be fired at a moment's notice.

As Rand approached the ruins of what had once been the Cauthon home, he heard it. At first it had started out as a dull roar in his ear, something he had simply associated with the burning houses, but as he continued his slow progress deeper into the village, the noise became more distinct, and with this distinction it also became more sinister.

As Rand poked his head around the corner of the Cauthon home, he saw a sight that took his breath away. There, upon the village green stood an army of Trollocs the likes he had not though imaginable. The army of Shadowspawn surrounded the Winespring Inn, as well as the people inside.

For there were many people inside the Inn, Rand noticed as he looked up. There in the windows stood several people he knew all armed with their bows and arrows, firing hell into the Trolloc army. Even as he looked, Rand saw as Mat drew back his bowstring and sent an arrow straight into the neck of a Trolloc that had been clawing at the barred doors of the Inn.

With a smirk on his face, Rand had to admit that the defenders of the Inn were doing rather well, especially considering most of them had only ever used their bows for hunting game.



Drawing his bowstring back to his shoulder, Rand took aim at the nearest Trolloc, a hulking beast with an enormous black mace that he had been swinging wildly in the air. As he released the bowstring, Rand watched in satisfaction as his arrow sank into the Trolloc's neck, killing it before it had fallen to the ground. Getting another arrow from his quiver, Rand took aim at another Trolloc, this one with a short bow and a quiver full of crude looking arrows. The arrow pierced the beasts back, upon which it wore very little armor. After a scream, the Trolloc fell on its face, dead.

Rand continued with this as his quiver got lighter and lighter as he felled more and more Trollocs. Wrapped as deeply as he was in the void, Rand only felt a flicker of satisfaction every time he saw a Trolloc drop dead. Finally, when his quiver emptied, Rand pulled back around the corner of the pile of rubble he had been hiding behind. Slinging his now useless bow over his shoulder, Rand drew his sword, admiring how the steel blade glinted from the light being given off from his burning village.

As Rand peeked around the corner of his hideout, he saw a giant leg, clad in black armor standing not a foot away from him. Looking up, Rand saw the snarling face of a Trolloc. Acting on instinct, Rand brought his father's sword up, feeling his arm shudder from the force of the Trollocs blow. As the Trolloc brought up his sword for another slash at his head, Rand jumped forward, his sword held in his hand, but completely forgotten. As he crashed into the towering Trolloc, sending them both toppling, he felt his sword slip from his fingers.

"Shit" he thought as he landed underneath the Trolloc, which easily weighed 3 times more than he did. His vision started to fade as the massive weight of the Trolloc started to crush his ribcage.

"_My knife" _thought Rand as he frantically started wiggling under the still living Trolloc who was trying to crush him.



With a roar, Rand dug his knife deep into the stomach of the Trolloc, pushing until he felt the knife pierce through the back of the beast, and felt it's breathing begin to lessen. After he was sure it was dead, Rand rolled out from underneath the Trolloc, panting as he bent to retrieve his knife. As he looked up, Rand saw the last thing he wanted to at that moment. He saw the black cloaked man, staring at him impassively with the sword drawn. Rand stared, unable to move as the hooded man slowly glided closer to him.

"_Soooo, you are the one that hasssss been killing my serventssss. No matter, I can, and will get more. Do you honestly think that the Great Lord of the Dark will let you live? No! The punishment for resisting it deathhhh. More will come, we will turn you little village into an ocean of blackness, we will kill you all. That is your punishment, for defiance. _

As he looked at the man in the black cloak, Rand felt a strange sensation fill him, and slowly, as though waking from a trance, Rand took a step back. The hooded man stopped in surprise, staring at Rand through is black hood as he took another step backwards. Finally coming to his senses, Rand ran for his sword, gripping it tight as the heat flew through his body.

With a final step forward, the hooded man raised his sword and brought it in a downward slash toward Rand. Without even realizing it, Rand lifted his sword in the path of the hooded man's. When the swords connected, a bright light erupted, temporarily blinding the hooded man. Strangely enough, however, the light did not seem to affect Rand in the slightest. Rand watched in astonishment as the light spread thought the hooded man's sword, hand, and all the way though his body. Eventually, when the man was fully encompassed in light, an explosion shook the village, knocking over the few remaining buildings in the village. As the hooded man exploded, all of the Trollocs began to scream. They fell to the floor and began clawing at their eyes, until eventually, they stayed still, dead.



Rand watched all of this happen in astonishment. Finally when the last Trolloc stopped thrashing, Rand felt the heat leave him, and with that he fell to the ground, unconscious.

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When Rand awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was lying on the floor of what was unmistakably the Winepring Inn. The second thing he noticed was that he was not alone. At least twenty people were lying on the ground next to him; some were injured, while others simply looked exhausted.

After about five minutes, Rand decided he had no desire to stay in the room any longer. With a grunt, he began walking down the stairs of the Inn.

When he reached the bottom floor of the Inn, the thought he was in a war camp, people were running around everywhere, some with bows and arrows, some with spears, and even a very few with swords. Rand quickly walked up to Nynaeve, who was currently resting on a chair against the wall.

"Nynaeve" Rand asked, desperation lacing his voice, "Tam and Egwene, they were both with me during the attack, but . . ."

"Rand!" shouted Nynaeve, interrupting his rambling, "Rand, they are both fine, Egwene is resting and Tam only got one small cut, which I must say, you did a rather fine job of stitching up. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my duties."

And with that she walked up the stairs, leaving behind an extremely confused Rand. Turning, Rand saw the mayor, along with several others huddled around a table which was covered in maps and figurines. As he approached them, Rand heard a heated debate.

"You don't understand dammit!" shouted Able Cauthon, Mat's father, "they will be back, and in greater numbers than the last time and we have to call for help."



"No! You are the one that doesn't understand Cauthon, they will not come back! They have seen that we can fight them and win. Why would they come back?" There were several murmurs of agreement and several nodding heads seen around the table.

"Allright then." Said the mayor, a smile blooming on his face. "It is decided they, whatever they were, will not return, and we should do our best to resume our lives as though this never happened." As the mayor finished his speech cheers were heard around the table, and only Able Cauthon was upset.

"No!" Shouted Rand, surprising the others around the table, who had not seen him before. "You don't know what your doing. They will come back, trust me I know"

"And how is it you know this boy?" asked the scornful voice of Wit Congar.

"I know because I spoke to them!" shouted Rand. After he calmed down, he told the men what he had been told by the hooded man.

"Then it is decided" Announced the mayor. "If we wish to avoid these creatures, we must leave the Two Rivers." After this, everyone started shouting and arguing, but Rand had already left to pack his bags. For if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he, along with the rest of his village, was leaving Emonds Field.


	5. To Tarren Ferry

**Disclaimer: The Wheel of Time series and all characters/places/everything belongs to Robert Jordan. **

_Previously . . ._

"_Then it is decided" Announced the mayor. "If we wish to avoid these creatures, we must leave the Two Rivers." After this, everyone started shouting and arguing, but Rand had already left to pack his bags. For if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he, along with the rest of his village, was leaving Emonds Field._

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The entire remainder of the village was in chaos.

After the Village Counsel had announced their decision, it seemed that everyone had a different opinion. Some said that the Counsel had gone completely insane. A second group, led by Tam al Thor, the only man in the Two Rivers who had ever been in a battle, was fully supportive of the Counsels decision. After days of arguments between the two factions of the Village, a decision was made. The village would split into two.

The first group, led by the Congars, had decided to stay in the Village, and rebuild everything that had been destroyed. While the second group, led by the Al' Veres and the Al' Thors had decided to leave the Village, and head for Baerlon, the great city just north of Taren Ferry.

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It had been three months since the Village Council had begun their debate over whether or not they would leave the Two Rivers, and everyone was filled with both dread and anticipation. Everyone dealt with these feelings in different ways. Matt could be found more often than not among the ruble of the village, with a tankard or two of rum, trying to drown his troubles. Perrin had set up a small outdoor smithy, where he was making the metal pieces necessary for the rapidly approaching day of departure, the ax that he had used to earlier fight the Trolloc army never leaving his side. Rand, however, was doing something very unexpected of a Two Rivers man. He was learning how to use his father's sword.

It was early in the morning, the sun, just peaking over the great mountains that hung in the distance, their looming shadows nearly reaching the outskirts of the decimated village. Upon the village green, which would in a few hours be filled with people of all ages preparing for departure, stood two figures. One large man, old and tired with streaks of gray in his otherwise night black hair, sat on the trodden grass, leaning against the southern wall of the Winespring Inn. He sat still and silent, his eyes never moving from the other figure on the green. The man he was observing was tall, with dark red hair and eyes that seemed to change color every time he blinked. In his hands he held a long sword of flawless steel which reflected the dawn sunlight in a fountain of colors as he twirled it in ever changing motions.

"Falling Roses" shouted Tam, as Rand finished his previously assigned sword form.

Without missing a beat, Rand brought his sword down in a graceful slashing movement, only to swiftly pivot, bringing the sword in a circular motion, as though he was cutting though his imaginary opponents stomach, he then pulled the handle tight to his chest, before thrusting his sword straight through the heart of the imaginary Trolloc with whom he dueled.

"Sheath!" yelled Tam, his voice beginning to crack after the hours of shouting.

With an inward grin, Rand brought his sword back close to him, the handle down by his waist with the blade pointing straight up into the air. In one graceful movement, he spun the sword, placing the tip of the blade on the edge of his sheath, and then slowly pushing the sword down until it was completely encased in it's container.

"Well Rand" began Tam, as he rose from his position on the ground, "You've improved a great deal, but remember, fighting air and fighting Trollocs are two very different things. The Trollocs will be faster, stronger, and more willing to kill than you. But you're doing fine, now go help Egwene drag Mat out of the wine cellar".

With a laugh, Rand turned and rushed off into the Inn in search of his friend.

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_Two days later . . . _

"Everyone, everyone!" shouted Bran al' Vere, the mayor of Emonds Field. "I am sad to say that now is the time we must leave our homes, and look for a new life, a life out in the wide open world".

With that, the people of Emonds Field split in two. Those who were leaving had tears in their eyes, for both themselves and their friends and family who were staying behind, leaving tracks in the dirt that had covered their faces. While those who had chosen to stay had looks of fierce determination plastered onto their faces, the only sign of remorse was the water gathering in the corner of their eyes.

Rand took one last look at the charred remains of his home, and hopped on his horse before riding north.

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The clicking of hoof beats woke Rand from his thoughts. Turning around, he saw his friends Mat and Perrin, both mounted on horses from Mat's father's stables. With a nod to the group of people staying behind, the three of them rode foreword, swiftly reaching the front of the procession, and just as swiftly passing them.

"Can you believe it Rand?" said Mat, excitement evident in his voice. "I can't believe WE were picked to be scouts!"

Rand nodded his head in agreement, remembering the day his father had told them they would be scouting ahead of the rest of the village, looking out for Trollocs or more of the mysterious cloaked men.

"What I can't believe", came the low voice of Perrin, "Is that YOU were chosen to be a scout, I mean, practically no body in the entire village trusts you" he exclaimed, exasperation tingeing his otherwise neutral tone.

At that, Mat simply grinned, and proceeded to look out for any sign of black cloaks.

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For the next three days, the village slowly moved north towards their destination; and for three days, the most exiting this that had happened was Mat getting slapped by a very irate Lauri al' Seen, who by all accounts had been so sick of Mat's pathetic attempts at flattery that she had simply snapped. Now, no one in the entire village could look at him without laughing.

On the fourth day however, things began to change.

Rand looked around, ever vigilant upon his brown horse, eyes open, flickering across the wooded landscape, looking for signs of life. Today, he, Mat, and Perrin had decided to split up, in hope of covering more ground. As he silently debated the intelligence of splitting up when Trollocs were abound, his horse passed through an especially thick clump of trees. As his horse cleared the trees, he saw that the landscape had changed, so that instead of being a never ending forest, it was dotted with wooden buildings. Grinning, Rand tapped the sides of his horse with his heels, spurring it forward. As he looked around, Rand noticed that Taren Ferry was much larger than Emonds Field had been, and the buildings were much more elaborate. Many were made of stone, and several had tile roofs, something only seen of the Winespring Inn at Emonds Field.

Thinking that there was no reason to tell the villagers what was ahead, as they would reach the village just as quickly whether or not he told them, Rand decided to explore his strange and new surroundings. Large cobblestone pathways winded around stone houses. Some of the larger homes were built right next to the river, so that its waves lapped up against their stone walls. People walked the streets, many wearing clothes in colors and cuts he had never seen before. Hawkers cried their wares, their shrill voices easily cutting through the early morning air.

It was everything he had hoped and so much more, a true city, and he was in it.

At the sound of approaching hoof beats, Rand turned his horse around, a grin nearly splitting his face in two as he saw Perrin and Mat riding through the village, the wagon train of refugees following close behind. Every face, be it young, old, man or woman, was plastered with an expression of relief and awe. The lines that had been forming under the eyes of even the younger villagers fading away into nothingness as they marveled the largest village they had ever seen.

"Wow Rand" Mat said in awe, "It's a real city, just like in the stories".

Rand just grinned at Mat, inwardly agreeing whole heartedly. They were safe.

**AN: Sorry this was so long in coming, I was debating continuing this story for forever, and with school I had no time, so I wrote this over the summer. I will probably continue this story, just don't expect anything NEAR frequent updates. R&R Please!**


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